Margins in Their Lives
by ForASecondThereWe'dWon
Summary: The big events fill pages, but their identities take shape in the margins.


**Author's Note:**

Based on the Tumblr prompt: "I could tell it was your favourite book because of all the notes you wrote in the margins."

* * *

His eyes went to her, reading on the bench, every chance they had: catching glimpses between the squares of rope while he raced Ned up the net, wondering if she heard the echo of his thundering footsteps across the metal floor of the jungle gym, maybe trying to impress her while he walked the rungs of the monkey bars with his arms outstretched until his aunt noticed and _freaked_, yelling for him to come down.

Peter was nine, with hair static-y from the enclosed tube of the red, plastic slide and Lego bricks zipped into the pocket of his cargo pants, and it was love at first sight.

He didn't notice when she left the bench, but he saw it empty and panicked, flew across the tiny pebbles of the playground at a staggering run. All that remained in the girl's place was a book, which Peter picked up. It wanted to fall open in his hands, naturally floppy from what must have been a lot of rereading. (This dazzled Peter, who didn't read very much himself.) His eyes lit up as he scanned the pages; there was as much written in pencil as had been typed in ink. This was _amazing_. He didn't know you could do that with a book, fill it up with your own ideas and opinions. Something you could find your identity in, where you could negotiate yourself into existence from cover to cover.

Peter looked up after a minute, paperback in hand, and glanced around frantically. The playground was part of a larger park that extended into a soccer pitch, and when he held his hand above his eyes, he could see the girl walking away.

"What's that?" Ned asked, coming up next to him and looking curiously at the book.

"Something important," Peter said, certain. "I'll tell you about it in a minute. Tell May I'll be right back!"

They'd been putting the playground equipment through its paces this afternoon, but Peter found his energy reserves, pumping his skinny arms as he sprinted across the field.

"Hey!" he called out. "You left this!"

The girl turned around as he approached, just as pretty as she'd been from a distance, sitting on the bench. She wore a white t-shirt (May would never trust Peter in one of those) and had her thumbs hooked through the lowest part of the straps on her backpack. He figured she must have a bunch of books in there. That was how she could've forgotten the one currently in his hand. It also explained how she was so smart.

"You left this," he said again, winded, thrusting the book forward and staring as it passed from his hand to hers. He felt like he'd just handed over Excalibur, something massively significant.

"Thanks," she said. She swung her backpack off one arm in a very no-nonsense way and tucked the book inside.

"I didn't want you to lose it," Peter explained. "I could tell it was your favourite book because of all the notes you wrote in the margins."

The dirtied soles on the toes of their sneakers lined up, a couple feet between them.

"What is it anyway?" he asked, following her backpack with his eyes as she settled it back in place.

"You didn't look?" The girl was smiling like she was about to laugh at him, but she didn't. "It's _Little Women_."

"Wow," said Peter. "It looks really long."

"It is," she confirmed.

"What were you―"

His aunt shouted his name and he turned around to look. She waved her arm, gesturing for him to return so that they could head home.

"Looks like I gotta go," Peter said. The golden light of late afternoon was hitting them sideways, getting in their eyes and making him dramatic, treading water in his own gravitas. "I'm Peter." He stuck out his hand and stared, like he had with the book, as hers slipped into it.

"Michelle."

He spent all night wondering if he should have swept her into his arms and kissed her. Aunt May said he watched too many epic movies.

* * *

MJ let the spiral-bound notebook flap against her leg as she trailed Peter at a leisurely pace down the science hall at Midtown Tech. She wondered how long it would take him to notice.

It wasn't exactly a high-speed chase, but her heartrate was accelerating, her breaths coming faster. He halted for a minute to say hi to Betty; keeping a furtive eye on him, MJ flipped the notebook open and uncapped the pen he'd fed into the coil binding. She leaned into the recess next to drinking fountain, working fast. By the time he resumed walking, she was more than ready.

Peter didn't get ten steps before MJ saw his back stiffen dramatically and hurried up behind him.

"Forget something?" she asked casually as he spun around to see her standing there. She lifted her eyebrows.

His mouth fell open, leading the charge for the puzzled expression that overtook his face. MJ held the notebook behind her and smacked it impatiently against her back.

"Yes, I did," Peter decided. She loved that moment when he switched from clueless to confident―it was like someone had just entered the password to enable the use of his brain.

Her dork frequently tried to fib his way out of circumstances where he'd been caught, but MJ had never seen him use this precise technique before, which was smiling, stepping close to her, and sliding his hand along her jaw as he kissed her. She might have felt wrong-footed, if she could feel her legs; mostly, she was aware of her face heating up and her limbs feeling sort of woozy.

Pulling back, Peter beamed in accomplishment. It was a good cover, but she knew he was still missing something, because she had it in her hand. MJ stood in front of him with a closed-lipped smile and waited for her boyfriend to admit that kissing her wasn't the thing he'd forgotten.

"I'll see you at lunch, ok? I have to, uh, get to, uh, gym."

She nodded easily and let him brush by her, back the way they'd both come from. Gave him four foolish steps before calling out, "The gym's actually in the other direction."

Peter turned and laughed weakly.

"Right."

He headed past her again with a little head shake like he was asking himself what he'd been thinking. It was all very cute, this act he was putting on. The fact that he still thought he could fool her. MJ strode after him and reached her arm over his shoulder to waggle the notebook in front of his face.

"You left something in the lab," she informed him.

"Crap." He stopped in his tracks and snatched it out of her hand while she contained her laughter.

"Wouldn't wanna leave this one behind," MJ cautioned. She folded her arms on his shoulder and propped her chin on top. "I could tell it was your favourite book because of all the notes you wrote in the margins. Don't get me wrong, your organic chemistry notes were interesting too, but what really grabbed my attention was the stuff labelled 'web fluid.'"

Peter turned his head to stare at her in horror. What a loser. If he'd just admit he was Spider-Man, MJ could stop putting him in these situations. She'd given him at least a dozen chances to fess up, but he kept holding stubbornly to something he was so bad at hiding. MJ anticipated that his eventual confession would be paired with a plea for help concealing his super-status.

Side-eyeing her, Peter thumbed through the pages and, bingo, found the one she'd improved. Beneath the 'web fluid' heading was a sketch of Spider-Man's mask. Uh oh, he was shocked again, wide eyes going from the cartoon to his girlfriend's face. MJ gave him a proud grin.

"This is, uh… it doesn't really say 'web fluid,' it says, um…"

"I have to get to class. Try to be more careful with your secrets, ok?"

MJ slid her arms from her boyfriend's shoulder and gave him a swift peck on the cheek.

She received a text from him five minutes later, saying he had something important to tell her after school. _Oh, Peter_, she thought, rolling her eyes, _it's about time_.


End file.
